Going Deeper Underground
by Shawn Richter
Summary: This is a fictional possibility of a new ending to Dostoevsky's Notes from the Underground in which the Underground Man has an encounter with a child who begs him for money.


_A New Ending to "Notes From Underground"_

"…I may even be more alive than you are! Just take a closer look! Why, we don't even know where this 'real life' lives nowadays, what it really is, and what it's called. Leave us alone without books and we'll get confused and lose our way at once…we won't know what to join, what to hold on to, what to love or what to hate, what to respect or what to despise. We're even oppressed by being men, men with real bodies and blood of our very own. We're ashamed of it; we consider it a disgrace and we strive to become some kind of impossible 'general human-beings'. We're still born; for some time now we haven't been conceived by living fathers; we like it more and more. We're developing a taste for it. Soon we'll conceive of a way to be born from ideas" (Dostoevsky, 91).

**PART III – The Child**

I see no reason to keep writing these notes, but I will continue only to tell you gentlemen of an encounter almost precisely ten years after the day that Liza had walked out of my home. I kept myself completely cut off, secluded, and hidden since that day, in spite, not longing for anymore "experiences", until one early morning someone knocked at my door. I must admit, that although in ten years I had never once thought to answer the door or see a person I did not have to see, I felt intrigued by the possibility of interaction after a totally sleepless night. When I heard the knock I felt a chance at redemption for my encounter with Liza, who I had still not successfully put out of my mind. I would sometimes secretly wander by her work and see if she came out, but even when I saw her I could never approach her, as I would get sick. I was somehow disappointed to see that she was still there, after all those years. And now, when I heard this knock at my door, this sickness filled me up, but it was an illness of a different nature. This was not the illness of regret or embarrassment, but that of hope. When I heard that knock I was suddenly filled with so much hope, like a child, so much that I became sick from all the possibilities that could have been awaiting me behind my door, which opened to the world that I rejected for so long. The knocking continued, and so did the endless possibilities grow in mind with each step I took towards the door. "Who could it be?" I pondered aloud, however not too loudly fearing that Apollon would come to the door.

That kind of soft knocking, it seemed to be calling out for forgiveness, or help. Was it Liza? Did she see wandering near her work? Was she stopping in to tell me that she knows I still have not forgotten her and that night? Was she going to tell me to leave her alone or that she has moved on without me? Was she going to threaten me? What could I do? I decided it was better not to open the door. The knocking stopped and footsteps were fading away form the door. What if she needs help? What if she is in real trouble? I don't know why gentlemen, but Liza was behind that door and I knew she needed my help. I was running out of time and I needed to act. I ran towards the door and just as I was about to turn the handle and face my fears, the knocking began again, so suddenly that it threw me back in the wall and onto the ground. "My god, she must really need my help!" I thought. I slowly crept forward towards the door, with thoughts still running wildly through me. As I turned the handle, tears filled my eyes and my heart was beating with rage. I was going to be sick, but I just had to see Liza, just once more, no matter what the consequences. I would get down before her, and plead for forgiveness. I would beg her to forget the money I threw at her and that she is the noblest creature I have known. I would help her and save her, fight for her, or even die for her. This was it, for the first time since I last saw her, I was opening the door to my sweet Liza and the outside world.

I opened the door, and there before me stood a child, not more than twelve years old, wrapped up in rags, looking sad and freezing. I fell down to my knees with tears in my eyes at first with shock and misery, but I quickly arose and gathered myself, as I could not let this child see the poor condition that I was in.

"What is it?" I asked, in a voice that was crackled and harsh, certainly for the ears of a child. But she simply stood there, frozen.

"Please, sir, I only ask for some money so that I can eat and find warmth." I stared down at this poor wretched wreck, and somehow all my thoughts were only of Liza, as if this was her child. I could not let my emotions show and questioned her as I observed her weak frame and motionless face.

"Where are your parents?"

"I have none sir." An orphan, like me, I thought.

"Then where do you live?"

"I live in a shelter, where it is very cold and there is rarely bread." It was hard to hear such a sweet voice, speaking of such serious matters.

"Well, why do you knock on my door, and none of the others?"

"The other children are afraid to knock on this door. They said a monster lives here, but I am not afraid sir, and I see no monsters." What a brave and foolish little girl, I thought. I seemingly took no offense at being called a monster. After all, what could these children understand of the ugly world in which they lived? I still could not help thinking about Liza, and as it was cold, I told her to come inside, and I will consider her request. She entered, walking like a soldier, and suddenly her eyes starting moving around and examining my home.

"What do you do?" she asked.

"I live here and tend to my matters."

"How do you get money to eat and live in this place?"

"That is a very inappropriate question to ask!" I felt bad for shouting, but yet I felt that a girl like this, in this city, must learn how to address those that are above her.

"I'm sorry sir."

"I will tell you that I certainly did not get all this by walking around and begging for money at the door of every monster that I became aware of! I was also an orphan like you, and yet I had the courage and strength to make it without begging like a hungry animal!" She began to tear, and I immediately began to feel sick for what I had said, but I knew that what I had said would only help her in the future.

"I'm sorry sir, but I have nothing." she whimpered through her tears.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Anna."

"Well, Anna, let me tell you that I feel sad for you. I feel sad for you because you are in a city and a world that cares not for you or anyone that you will associate with. If you have no use for them to manipulate, then they will have no use for you. If you cannot contribute more to this world than knocking on strangers door and begging them to let you live, you will be nothing more than a cheap prostitute on the street. One way or another, people will find a way to use you Anna! People must respect you and you must be noble! You cannot let the world dominate you like this your whole life! I can do whatever I want with you right now, and no one in this world would care! Does this not distress you Anna! Answer me!" As you can imagine gentlemen, this poor girl was quite hysterical by this point, and I was completely lost in my sick feeling, but this was for her own good, and if I was going to save this girl from the nightmare that is her life, then it was my most noble duty to teach her. I only thought of Liza, as I decided that I would be the savior of this girl. Monster, ha! I would be her most honorable hero, and all the children would regret not knocking on my door! "Anna" I continued, "You must understand that you are lost in a city that is more lost than even you are. It is like a cart that is spinning in endless circles, with no destination, and no one spinning it, except the apathy of its members! You do not belong here, and neither do I! And yet we are both condemned to suffer, you on the outside with no where to call home, and me in my home, with nowhere to go outside!" I wondered if she understood.

She looked up at me as if was her king, and then asked, "Why don't you go outside?"

"Because, Anna, I am not one of these prostitutes who walk around, selling myself for nothing! Don't you get it? They are not simply the girls at the brothels, or the beggars on the street. Everyone out there is a prostitute, the rich and the poor!"

"But don't you get lonely sir?" she asked. "Why don't you go outside and be with the other people like you?"

Gentlemen, I can honestly tell you that I understood with all certainty that this poor young girl did not have the ability to see what I was telling her. However, her questions only angered me. After all, how could I possibly be as lonely as those who lived out in this city, the loneliest place in this world? How could I be lonelier than this beggar knocking on stranger's doors? And people like me! She obviously did not understand anything that I had explained to her. Yes, she was young, but someone in her position should have been able to see the people around her for what they were. Why would I associate myself with the people who treated her like an animal, who give her money because she looks at them with a sad expression, like a hungry dog? This is not really what she wanted, just a treat to keep her going until she had to beg for what is next. I could really truly save this girl from the world which is disgusted by her existence, the one which throws loose change at her so that they do not have to see her miserable face again. I would have already thrown her out to the street if my head and heart were not so filled with the memories of Liza. I would not give this girl some money and let her go one with her sad existence, begging for help from those that could not even help them selves. This time it would be different. I would be her most noble hero, because I truly felt sorry for her sad life, and then she would remember in her heart forever the day that she knocked at my door. I would not simply dismiss this sad soul like all the others before me. I, gentlemen, was going to help this girl in the most noble way I could!

"Sir, when is the last time that you weren't alone?" she asked.

As you can imagine, I was filled with disappointment and embarrassment when she asked this question. Could it be possible that this poor little orphan child felt sorry for my condition? I had no choice but to tell her the story of Liza, not in its entirety, and certainly not about the last time I spoke with Liza. But I told her of how I tried to save this poor woman and failed, and told her that I would stop her from becoming what Liza had become. I told her that I would save her from all the pain of Liza's life, I could tell that she understood and saw that mine was the most important door of all those that she had approached. I told her that she was now going to live with me, and I would educate her in the finest ways, turning her into a truly noble person, better than those who she has had to bother and beg for survival. "Well, what do you think Anna?" I asked.

Her answer was appalling, "Sir, I must admit that I find your offer very thoughtful, and I think we are more similar than you think. You say that I am in great need of help and that I must not become like the people who walk the streets of this city, but they survive well, have food, family, and friends, and are involved in all kinds of activity. Meanwhile, you have hidden yourself from the world in your apartment and call these people prostitutes. I do not think that you truly hate these people, but I think that you are afraid of them. You are afraid of them, just like I am, because they have what we do not, and because they run us over without the slightest care in the world. You say that you want to save me from becoming like them, when it is obvious that both you and I desire more than anything to be like them. How could you possibly save me, sir? You have failed to save yourself, and you have locked yourself away from the world. I came to your door looking for some money so that I could eat today and I will knock on another door so that I could eat tomorrow, but one day, I hope that I can be one of the people whose door is knocked upon, and just like they honorably help me survive through the day, I would very happy to help feed a young girl or boy who knocked upon mine. But I very much regret having knocked on your door sir. Not because you are a monster, but because you are a lonely man who is need of help, just like me. You are an orphan hidden away in this apartment, and although you have food and warmth, that is all you have, and so I believe that you are somehow even poorer and less fortunate than me, because you do this to yourself, out of spite. So, sir, as much as I appreciate your offer, I think that I want to leave now, so that I can go find some food for the day."

Gentlemen, as you can imagine, by the time that she had finished speaking, the tears had filled me up, and I was so sick that I was shaking to hold myself up in front of this young girl. Why did I try to help this girl? I should have just gave her a coin and sent her away. How dare she come into my house, a beggar in rags, and insult me! How dare she feel sad for me, when she is the saddest looking girl in this entire sad city! How could this be, when I was to be her grand hero, and she refuses me and asks to leave with nothing? Now I really only had Liza in mind, however, my anger took over my emotions and I was not going to let this beggar take the advantage over me! She would not leave this house like Liza, like some kind of a noble hero! "Now listen to me Anna." I said, fighting off my sick feeling. "I do not know why you would say something like you just did, when you know nothing of this world you live in. You have condemned yourself Anna! You will now be one of their dogs forever, and they will feed you and clean up after to you only when you get in their way. Is that what you want Anna? To forever be in the way of these people that you admire so much?" I took out several coins, and went up to her and put them in her hands. I was now speaking to her right into her face, and as her tears came rolling down, so did mine. "Yes Anna, you have got what you came for, now leave this place, because you, like an animal, has been fed! Yes, you may go! In fact, you must go, because you do not belong in this place. You belong on the doorsteps of prostitutes!" I fell to my knees and felt so sickened by emotions and thoughts of Liza; I simply could not control myself.

Anna let out a shout and called me a monster, gathered her rags, and ran outside. I was left there on my knees for a while, until I remembered that I had given her what she wanted. I gave more money than any of these other people have probably given her in her entire life. She could eat and keep warm for a week on what I gave her! She thought I was a monster, but tonight when she is eating well, she will remember me as a noble man, and maybe even return and beg for my forgiveness. And gentlemen, with this thought in my mind, I arose and went on with my day, thinking no more of this girl, except that perhaps she would return soon to thank me for my hospitality. Later that day, feeling so noble from the morning, I decided that I should go for a walk. As I left my apartment, I saw coins thrown all over the floor outside my door. I examined these coins and found that they were the same as those that I had given to Anna; not one missing. I fell to the ground immediately and felt sicken with grief. Was it possible that this poor starving beggar had refused all the money I had given her, simply to make her point? How could she be so noble? How could she be the one who was sorry for me? I began to cry, and my thoughts were immediately taken up by Liza, and I ran back into my home, and in the six years since have avoided all other encounters and have not seen Liza or Anna, the noble creatures that they were. But that is it for me. I will write no more gentlemen, for I cannot bear to continue on with these notes.

"However, the notes of this paradoxalist don't end here. He couldn't resist and kept on writing. But it also seems to us that we might as well stop here" (Dostoevsky, 91).


End file.
